The cooking of Sri Lanka harbors little subtlety. Bold-stroke flavors drawn from ingredients that pop in the pan, on the plate and—particularly wonderfully—on the palate. Ginger. Garlic. Chilies. Turmeric. Infinite forms of rich coconut. A bevy of curry powders, some toasted deeply dark for flavor that truly punctuates. And all of them used copiously.

So it’s fitting that in name and signage, my lunch stop two days running in Colombo—the country’s bustling seaside capital—also abides no subtlety. The sign above the shop door—tucked along a crowded commercial street that cuts across the city—is printed in massive turmeric yellow letters giving Hollywood Sign vibes. The name and message are simple and direct: BEST FOOD.

If you look upward, the message is repeated. Twice. First on the windows of the second and third floors, one letter per window. Then again on a co-branded Pepsi sign above them. As I said, subtle they are not.

Luckily, the food lived up to the billing. There are a few small tables on the main floor, but mostly the space is domineered by a long buffet wrapped in palm fronds and crowded with dozens of dark clay pots—many lined with banana leaves—overflowing with all manner of curries, vegetables, salads and rice. The lunch line winds out the door.

For all the fanfare, the delivery is simple. When it’s your turn, pick your rice, pick your meat curry (or two or three), pick your vegetable (or two or three), then pick your salad (or two or three). All of it gets heaped onto a banana leaf-lined platter and handed to you in short order. For research purposes only—of course—I opted for three from each category.

The mutton curry was outstanding, drenched with toasted curry powder, cayenne, garlic, ginger, red onions and green chilies. A flavor bomb so tender the meat shred at the barest touch of a fork.

But is it weird that of the dozen or more dishes I tried that day, the one that stayed with me most was a simple carrot curry? Like so many Sri Lankan dishes, this was built from a blizzard of coconut, garlic, ginger, turmeric and cayenne. Red onion, mustard seeds and fresh chilies added even more bite. Cashews stirred in at the end added richness and crunch.

Such a wonderful way to elevate such a simple vegetable. After going back for a second serving, then insisting the cook show me how it was made—and then eating his freshly prepared batch—I found it difficult to dispute the signage.

JM Hirsch

J.M. Hirsch is a James Beard Award-winning food and travel writer and editorial director of Christopher Kimball's Milk Street. He is the former national food editor for The Associated Press and has written six books, including “Freezer Door Cocktails: 75 Cocktails That Are Ready When You Are.”